


i love you (but i'll hold my tongue)

by AnnaofAza



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service RPF
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6393298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's inevitable, this drifting apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i love you (but i'll hold my tongue)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lauren (yourefullofsurprises) for beta-ing, and the special someones who put in their pick for the lovely title! You know who you are! (Thank you to sushicorps/secondarysushicorps)

“You should just text him,” Livia says.

Colin puts down his phone for what seems like the seventh time. “I don’t know what to say.”

His wife doesn’t often roll her eyes, but this time, she looks at him directly in the face and does it, slow and purposeful. “You’re worse than our children when they were twelve,” she mutters, without looking up from her laptop. “Just say hi.”

“That’s so juvenile,” Colin complains, but he does end up typing in  _ hello,  _ then immediately deleting it.

“Well, the perfect words aren’t going to come if you keep staring at your phone, Mr. Darcy,” Livia remarks, sending another email with a decisive click. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a meeting in half an hour, and it will be lovely to talk with people who can make actual decisions.” Despite her seemingly harsh words, her tone is light-hearted, and Colin gives her a peck on the cheek before she runs out the door.

Livia does have a point, though. He shouldn’t be making such a big deal out of this.

He doesn’t have a monopoly on Taron. They were co-stars, nothing more.  _ Former  _ co-stars, and it didn’t look like Matthew was going to call him anytime soon about the  _ Kingsman _ sequel.  

But seeing Taron laughing and joking around with Hugh Jackman makes the ugly knot in his stomach pull tighter. He’d watched a little of the recent Jonathan Ross show last night and remembered what it had been like: calming down a slightly-hyperventilating Taron on the couch before the cameras rolled, wrapping his arms around his co-star when he entered the room with a bashful wave, and doing what he could to make Taron relax, even reading Victorian porn out loud in front of an audience.

Colin had inwardly beamed with pride when Taron’s role in  _ Eddie the Eagle  _ had been mentioned, and it had seemed like such a vague thing back then. He’d congratulated Taron when the young man first called him about the role; they didn’t even know when it would be coming out or when Taron would exactly be shipped off for some training. But they both knew about Hugh Jackman, and Taron had even cracked a joke: “Wolverine on a ski slope, huh?”

Now watching Hugh and Taron and three others sing loudly with pints in their fists makes Colin think about how boring his interviews with Taron had been in comparison. Together, Hugh and Taron had played a snowball game on  _ Ellen  _ and Catchphrase on  _ Jimmy Fallon _ , along with interviews with a lot of humorous, non-serious questions. Livia had laughed for five minutes straight at the “career advice” that began with “do something you love” and “always come to work wearing clothes.”

Compared to that, he and Taron had…sat on a variety of couches and chairs and just  _ talked _ .

Often, the interviewers would ask the same questions, and both of them would have to answer them with bags underneath their eyes and unfailing politeness. And Colin didn’t necessarily  _ mind  _ being polite, but compared to Hugh and Taron’s exuberant gesturing and jumping about during Catchphrase, he felt like a boring old man.

He even looked at his own episode of  _ Jimmy Fallon  _ and cringed in embarrassment at himself mostly standing here and smiling politely amongst the antics, most of them involving a puppet.

Colin now sighs. He still talks to a few of his co-stars, but no one has quite sneaked their way into Colin’s heart like Taron. Young, exuberant, and with a good head on his shoulders, as well as a promising future ahead, Taron  _ shone,  _ and as cliché as it sounds—he did describe his first meeting with Livia as a bolt to the heart, so Colin does know when he’s being sentimental—he lit up Colin’s world.

With all these film project being piled on them both, it seems like they haven’t truly talked—or even texted—in ages. Taron had sent Colin a birthday message, and Colin had briefly talked to Taron after his loss of the Rising Star Award, but their paths hadn’t crossed again. Not at the BAFTAs, not at the Academy Awards, not even in London, once. They do congratulate each other on this nomination or that new movie trailer, but Colin honestly doesn’t know if Taron will see the third of the  _ Bridget Jones’s Diary  _ series or  _ Genius. _

Will they ever be in a film together again? He doubts it. Taron is young and handsome and full of energy; he’s going to be cast in more action movies and comedy, while Colin is going to be cast in more historical films and quiet dramas. Or another romantic comedy, but Taron could—

No. He won’t allow himself to even consider it. Taron has had romantic interests in films and shows, but it always ends badly and only has a few seconds of sweet laughter and chaste pecks on the cheek or lips. Even while playing Mad Teddy Smith, Taron didn’t even snog Tom Hardy; he simply had to wink and saunter and express concern once in a while for Ronnie Kray’s safety. ( _ And  _ hadn’t even been the one love interest.)

Colin’s done a lot of romantic movies, and while some of them don’t have many scenes of emotional affection, a good many have very physical scenes. He knows what will happen if Taron ever gets in front of the camera: he and the girl—because isn’t it always a girl with handsome, dirty-blonde young men?—will start out slow and tender, then start breathing heavily as they kiss and kiss and kiss, each time a bit wilder and a bit more passionate, until they tumble into bed or up against a hard surface. Taron’s fingers will comb through the girl’s flowing locks, sweet but wound up all at once, and hands would pull off clothes until more and more skin is revealed. Taron will be shirtless, most likely, and will close his eyes and moan and sigh—

No. No.

He will not think of this. He won’t.

He won’t imagine Taron’s fingers in his hair, Taron’s hands tugging at his shirt, Taron’s lips parting and spine arching…not for the cameras, but for  _ real _ —

His ringtone startles him, and when he glances down at the screen, expecting Livia to be saying she’ll be late for dinner tonight, he nearly has a heart attack when it instead reads  _ Taron,  _ with a photo of him grinning at the camera in a crisp light-blue shirt.

“Taron?” Colin asks, with too much hope in his voice. No reply. “Taron?” He tries again, a little louder. 

“Oh, sorry, I must have butt-dialed you,” Taron then replies, and Colin’s heart sinks. “But, hey, it’s good to hear from you! How are you?”

“Good,” Colin lies. “Yourself?”

“Yeah, just sitting around and waiting for the premiere to start,” Taron replies. “Dressed up and everything, but there’s some technical stuff that got delayed, so just…sitting pretty, I guess.”

Colin tries to picture him: waiting with crossed legs, neck obscured by a neat bowtie, and fidgeting with his phone or his hands. “Bored?”

“Yeah, and a little nervous, you know?” Taron laughs. “I don’t know if I’ll ever really get used to all of this, you know…the crowds and cameras and all. But I guess if they don’t make me say my hometown again, I should be good.”

“And what is that called again?” Colin teases.

“Oi, fuck off,” Taron wails into the phone. “No! I swear, if someone ever asks me that again—well, I’d answer politely, but  _ still.  _ Being a gentleman is hard.” He then chuckles. “But at least Hugh’s here, yeah? Did you see him rattle off my fake phone number the other night? I feel bad for whoever’s calling it.”

Colin swallows. His tone is purposely light and controlled: “Still complaining about being single?”

“Always do,” Taron chirps obliviously. “I mean, I know, I know—Mum keeps saying that I’m young and have my whole life ahead of me, but I haven’t had anyone since….well, before  _ Kingsman _ , you know? It would be nice to have something calm and not…chaotic once in a while.” He then sighs. “You’re lucky you have Livia.”

“Yes,” Colin says softly. “I’m glad I do.” He doesn’t say  _ but I also want you. _

He misses Taron. He misses his bright smile, he misses his boisterous laughter, and he misses—well, Colin misses everything. He doesn’t have an online presence, but Livia follows Taron, and Colin shamelessly checks whenever Taron tweets something or posts something on Snapchat -- both of which are rare.  

That's all they have right now: trying to reach each other through screens, and sometimes, not even that succeeds. 

It has to change. 

“Listen,” Colin then continues, quickly, “we haven’t seen each other in a while, so, I was thinking—“

“Taron!” Colin hears someone shout in the background, and he recognizes the voice as none other than Hugh’s. “Showtime! Ready to strut the red carpet?”

Taron groans. “All right, all right, yeah, be there in a sec!” he shouts back, then apologizes, “Sorry, Colin, I gotta go.”

Colin helplessly says, “Good night,” and tries not to allow his aching heart twinge when Taron hangs up with a final  _ click _ .

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last firtherton fic. I swear it.


End file.
